


One Day

by noodlecatposts



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Best Friends, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Ficlet, Pining, Pining!Rowan, Roommates, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22302967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: The deepest of shit. Rowan is in the deepest of shit.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 71
Kudos: 347





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This gets a little... smutty? Idk, it's really not that bad. Enjoy Pining!Rowan.

Rowan is in deep, deep shit.

That is the first thought the man has as he watches his best friend and roommate slide her way down the hallway of their shared apartment on knee-high socks, dressed in nothing more than them and his stolen t-shirt.

Aelin looked like something out of one of his wet dreams, dressed in his shirt, several sizes too big for her. As he watched her and tried very hard not to openly gape, Rowan Whitethorn expects this image to make a reappearance for him, later when his conscience wasn’t around to tell him why it was wrong. Why it was totally fucked up.

Rowan has always been attracted to Aelin. The woman is fucking gorgeous, the sun incarnate with sparkling eyes and miles of golden hair. Anyone who tries to say otherwise is clearly blind, or just an idiot. Yet, the attraction was always more of a fact than anything else. Anything _more._

It was much more now.

Rowan thinks of it as a curse, some dirty secret he needs to keep away from Aelin. He could only imagine how his best friend would react if she knew how Rowan woke up last night, skin too tight on his body, throbbing unbearably, burning with the need for release.

Aelin would be horrified. She’d just broken up with that idiot of a boyfriend of hers. To lose the comfort and safety she feels here—No, Rowan wouldn’t do that to her.

“What are you doing?” Rowan growls and feigns annoyance at Aelin and her antics, even as a smile fights its way onto his face. She only laughs and slides her way back down the hallway, playing.

It just... started one day, the dreams, the fantasies, the way his blood spiked at how his shirt draped on her lithe, tanned body. The way it just caressed the tops of her thighs, exposing miles of golden skin, tanned from their beach adventures. It was all too much, drove him mad with want.

The beach trips. They were becoming increasingly tricky experiences for Rowan Whitethorn. Aelin loved the beach, wanted to go every weekend, but Rowan started to make excuses, even as it pained him to deny her. He was ashamed of having to sneak off to the bathroom to try and pull himself back together.

But the shame—mortification, really—would be so much higher were Aelin to make one of those daring leaps at him, the ones she was so fond of, and brush up against his aching erection, find her best friend hard and throbbing at the sight of her in that barely-there bikini.

The deepest of shit. Rowan is in the deepest of shit.

“Ro!” The blonde crows his name in delight, startling him from his train of thought. Small mercies that Rowan sat down on the couch with a pillow in his lap, hiding his visceral reaction to the flash of red lace he catches sight of as Aelin leaps onto the sofa beside him.

That floral scent of hers hits Rowan like a physical blow. The man has to work very hard not to show how her nearness these days just wholly undoes him. He dreads her closeness as much as he craves it.

That smell haunts Rowan, lingers in every space of his apartment now that Aelin lives here, too. It’s on the couch where she’ll lounge for hours after work; it’s strongest in the shower, where her thousands of shampoos reside. Fuck, it’s even in his bed, that Aelin regularly sneaks into. Because the friends never established any kind of boundaries in their five years as friends, and if he went more than a day without Aelin flopping onto his bed beside him while he read, then something was really, _really_ wrong.

It never bothered him before, how casually Aelin would crawl into the bed beside him. Because she was bored or lonely or missed him. Or, in the middle of the night, because her dreams haunted her and Aelin wanted to know someone else was near.

Rowan always pulled her close on those nights, taking his own comfort in her presence. Then one day, Rowan rolled over in his bed and found Aelin in it; she’d snuck into his room and curled up with him again. It wasn’t uncommon or weird after all of their years of friendship. But what was uncommon and weird and unexpected and just _terrifying_ was the way Rowan’s heartstrings tugged at this sight of her next to him, at the view of all those golden strands of sunlight spread across his pillow.

He’d wanted to pull her close, trail a few thousand kisses across her neck, and absorb the feeling of her soft skin against his. And then he knew.

That was the day the attraction became more. The day Rowan realized it had become something more. And there was no turning back.

Suddenly, Rowan felt very guilty on those nights that Aelin crawled into bed with him. Because he longed to move on top of her, to push her into the mattress, and see if the taste of her skin was anything like what his brain conjured up for him during his dreams.

Rowan knew she’d taste better in reality than anything he could—

“Ro, are you paying attention?” Aelin snaps at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I said: Let’s make pancakes!”

Aelin slaps him on the arm as hard as she can, which is pretty fucking hard; it’s enough to startle him out of his thoughts. Rowan is immediately thankful for the pillow again. He’d never be able to explain to Aelin what he was doing sitting not-so-innocently in the living room with a massive hard-on. He’d never be able to explain this to her. It’d ruin everything.

Shit. This was a lot to deal with so early in the morning. His cold shower earlier had accomplished nothing.

“Yes, I heard you,” Rowan grouched. His throat is dry, and he’s having a tough time coming up with coherent thought with her so near and so undressed. His eyes have a mind of their own; they trace her curves without his permission and snag on the barest hint of a nipple. Aelin wasn’t wearing a bra. Rowan barely manages to keep his groan internal.

Aelin laughs at him, oblivious to his suffering.

“Get started, and I’ll be right there,” Rowan tells her gruffly; he desperately needs her out of the room so he could escape down the hallway. Then he adds: “Please don’t burn down my kitchen.”

“Hey, I thought _I_ wasn’t the morning person, not the other way around,” Aelin teases, sliding off of the couch and walking away with swaying hips. When his best friend moves to stretch her hands above her head, Rowan has to look elsewhere. He doesn’t think he can handle much more of this.

“And don’t forget: it’s our kitchen now, Ro.”

They’ve been best friends for years, but it took Rowan less than a week of them living together to learn one very, crucial, critical thing. Something he’d like to have known before he offered Aelin his guest room. Not that he thinks it would’ve stopped him from doing so. But it at least would have given him some warning.

“Ay! Buzzard!” Aelin’s voice is rough with frustration. “Get your giant, well-toned ass in here! I can’t reach where you put the pancake mix!”

“Coming, Fireheart.” She has no idea.

Rowan is in love with Aelin. His roommate. His best friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely the smuttiest thing I’ve published to date. Ha, so warnings apply for **mature/nsfw content** and angsty!pining!horny!Rowan. How many ! can I combine before I’ve gone too far?

The scent of Aelin’s skin is heavy in the air. Rowan kisses her, leaves her breathless and wanting with deep sweeps of his tongue and quick nips of his teeth against her lips. As she moans, he begins to travel lower, kissing down the slope of her neck, a bite to the junction of her neck and shoulders— _lower_.

Rowan smiles as she arches beneath him; Aelin is just as demanding in bed as she is in her everyday life. He hikes that t-shirt of his up above her breasts, baring her torso to him and groans at the sight that greets him. Aelin's fingers lace into Rowan's hair, as he takes on dusty pink nipple into his mouth and sucks, massaging at her other breast with a free hand.

“Rowan,” Aelin breathes; her voice is husky, desperate.

“What do you need, Fireheart?” Rowan asks between hot, open-mouthed kisses, down and across her stomach. His fingers travel down her sides, plucking at the elastic of those red lace panties, teasing Aelin with the promise of more, and the woman whimpers, hands clutching at the short-cut ends of his hair and pulling.

"I," Aelin gasps as Rowan's breath fans across where she wants him most, but he skips over the spot and sucks a mark into the thin skin of her inner thigh instead. A moan. "I need- _oh_ fuck. Your mouth, Rowan. I need your mouth."

“Always, so impatient,” he chides her, but Rowan settles between her spread legs gladly and slides that red lace aside so that he can cover her core with his mouth instead. Aelin keens at the sensations, and it fills him with pride; encouraged, he swipes his tongue down her in a stripe.

“ _Rowan_ ,” she moans, gripping his hair hard enough that it becomes painful, but Rowan enjoys it. He traces his hands down her sides, gripping Aelin by the hips and position her to allow himself to sink two fingers inside her warmth. Her answering groan is low and throaty, and it makes Rowan's cock twitch where it presses between his thigh and the sheets. He aches to sink inside her, but Rowan will have time to do that later. After.

“Ro!” Aelin cries when he takes her clit between his teeth gently. Aelin arches off of the bed with the feeling, begins to roll her hips against the fingers inside of her. She’s so close; Rowan can feel it, taste it. He moans into her center, crooks his fingers just right and—

“ROWAN!” Someone smacks Rowan’s cheek, startling him. “Get up, you lazy Buzzard!”

Rowan lurches upright, mind swirling in confusion. He’s—hot, sweating. Fuck, he was—

Aelin’s laugh is hearty, amused at the confusion Rowan wears on his face; she’s the only one that’s ever managed to surprise him. Or rather, maybe she’s the only one that’s ever been brave enough to try.

Dreaming. Rowan was dreaming.

“Were you having a good dream?” Aelin teases, wiggling her brows at him. Rowan goes pale at the implications, afraid he might have said her name in his sleep, but it only makes the woman—fully dressed and utterly oblivious to his desires—laugh harder.

Her grin is salacious. “You were _writhing_ in the sheets, Ro. Who has you all worked up so early in the morning?”

“I, uh—no one,” Rowan’s voice is gruff, scratchy with arousal.

The quirk of her lips tells Rowan that Aelin doesn’t believe him for a second. “Oh, it must be someone really good then!”

“A,” Rowan warns, feeling tormented.

“C’mon, Ro!” Aelin tickles his sides. “Tell me who it is! Oh! Is it that Lyria girl you fancy? The one from work?”

Rowan snatches his best friend’s hands from his sides; he really, really doesn’t want to engage in their usual wrestling matches right now, not while he’s hard and a little delirious and can still recall the way she tasted in his dreams.

“Oohhh, you’ve got it bad!” Aelin cackles. “You’re—”

“A,” Rowan interrupts his friend, firm and gentle. He’s considering just dying on the spot; it’d end the torment. He can't believe he ever told her about that silly work crush; Rowan is far past that now. “What did you want?”

Aelin reads his moods so easily; the woman frowns for a second, and Rowan dreads the moment when she asks _Ro, what’s wrong?_ He doesn’t know how to lie to her, has never had to do so before. Yet, evasive tactics are only going to get him so far.

“We’re going to the beach!” Aelin announces with a grin, throwing her hands up into the air in excitement. It’s then that Rowan notices the slip of diaphanous fabric the woman wears, while practically clamoring into his lap. Through it, Rowan can make out the curves of her full breasts—it’s a lot.

Rowan groans out of frustration from his dream and from the prospect of having to go to the beach. He’d planned to lay around the house today, feel miserable for himself, and maybe get a little drunk in the privacy of his room. Not go out into the sun and spend the whole day pretending not to watch Aelin’s hips sway in the water.

“Lys called, and Aedion is off today, and it’s been so _long_ since we were all together,” Aelin must notice the hesitation on Rowan’s face because she puckers out that bottom lip of hers into a pout. Rowan has to fight back the instinct to take it between his teeth. He’s not dreaming anymore; Rowan has to remind himself of that.

“C’mon, Roowwww,” Aelin pleads, dragging his name out. “You bailed last week, too.”

For the trip to the bar. The man had taken one look at his best friend in that guise of a dress and made up an excuse about a last-minute project for work. Aelin had been disappointed, but she'd let him off the hook easily. It only made him feel worse.

Rowan and his best friend hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, having a silent battle of wills. Aelin knows the moment she’s won him over; she smiles brightly, blinding him.

“Great!” Aelin clambers off the bed. “I’m going to give them a call, and you’re going to go take a shower and tend to that morning wood.”

Rowan chokes, gaping at her, but his best friend just wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and leaves the room in a flurry of blonde hair and laughter. Aelin isn’t bothered by his morning erections; she’s spent enough platonic nights in his bed to know it happens sometimes. Such sweet torture.

He flops back onto his bed with a defeated groan. Rowan’s hand slides down his body to cup himself through the sweatpants he wears. A paltry attempt to soothe the ache. Aelin would be laughing a lot less of she knew this was all for her.

In the shower, Rowan can’t help that his mind wanders, even as he just barely makes out the sound of Aelin singing along horribly to some tune on the radio. It makes his heart warm, and a smile touches his face, and that makes the guilt all the worse when he grips himself firmly, stroking quick and fast. It makes him swear at himself in shame after he falls apart with nothing but the conjured image of his tongue at Aelin’s entrance and her name on his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Kiss me again" prompt submitted via Tumblr. <3

Rowan enters the living area, takes one look at Aelin, and knows that he’s just seen the cause of his death.

“What.” Rowan grounds the words out between his teeth. “Are. You. Wearing?”

The little black number Aelin chose to wear to the beach is practically nonexistent. Literal strings hold the cups together, and the bottom is more of the same, with sides made of an intricate web of more string. Rowan can’t fathom how she managed to get it on; he wants to take them off with his teeth.

Aelin’s laughs her signature cackle, grinning at him like Rowan was the most ridiculous person she’d ever met. Without explaining, Aelin drops her white-framed shades onto her perfect little nose and exits the apartment, leaving a very flustered Rowan in her wake.

The last time Rowan went the beach with his best friend, he’d succumbed to his burning attraction to her, had to sneak off to the bathrooms, and take the coldest shower of his life. It seemed like another was in his future.

*

The beach trip would be a lot for any guy is what Rowan tells himself as he watches Aelin and Lysandra set up their towels in the sand. The women in their party were not shy individuals; they dressed for the occasion, wearing nothing but scant suits and their wicked smiles.

It seemed as if it was just going to be a day of laying in the sun; that worked for Rowan.

But what didn’t work for Rowan was the volleyball game. Rowan wanted to curse whatever cruel individual installed the net since his last visit.

If there was one thing the cousins never missed an opportunity for, it was competition. Though it's Aelin and Lysandra who decide the teams: boys versus girls.

“Naturally,” Aelin tells Rowan with a smile. It makes his heart flip in his chest, and his mind goes blank, erasing any chance he has of coming up with a witty comeback. Rowan couldn’t decide if he was thankful or remorseful of the fact Aelin wouldn’t be on his team, playing on his side. They were always on each other’s team for things like this; Aelin always has his back.

“Let’s get to it!” Aedion wears a shit-eating grin as he takes up a position beside Rowan. Aelin’s cousin is entirely confident they’ll win, but Rowan would like to disagree. Strangely, he feels a little nervous, but the girls whisper low and quick to each other, planning their strategy with smiles and laughs.

Rowan takes one good look at Lysandra, dressed in an utterly backless one piece, and the man knows that Aedion will be of no use either. At least, they’ll go down together. Because they were screwed.

Rowan thinks the worst part of it all isn’t even all of the smooth, tan skin Aelin wears on display. Nor is it the way her body moves in the sun as she spikes the ball, as she jumps in the air and cheers her victories. No, it was—Aelin. Just the sight of her, the grim determination lining her face. The way she stood opposite her roommate, a queen on the battlefield sizing up her enemies. Rowan was just overcome with her; she was breathtaking.

“Rowan!” Aedion practically screams as the ball bounces off his head. “Man! You aren’t paying attention!”

“You’re one to talk,” Aelin teases her cousin with an eyebrow wiggle. It’s true; Aedion was a lost cause when it came to Lysandra. The woman had him wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. Not that Rowan was in any position to call the other man out.

The rest of the day passes pretty similarly. As the sun begins to fade, the group spreads out on their towels and naps the remaining hours of sunlight away. Rowan finds himself being used as Aelin’s pillow, and without overthinking his decision, he runs his fingers through her salt-tangled hair. She hums happily, and it sends a bolt of warmth through Rowan. He’d like to make her hum like that in a different setting: the two of them curled up together for bed, taking comfort in each other’s presence.

The car ride home is more natural too, Rowan is too tired to focus on how good Aelin looks kissed by the sun and with her damp hair. That is until she falls asleep on his shoulder on the way home. They’re curled up in the backseat, and Rowan works very hard to miss the knowing look Lysandra sends his way.

The feeling of Aelin’s skin on his, of her scent surrounding him, sends his heart and his mind spinning. Rowan doesn’t know what he’s going to do, but he needs to do something.

*

Rowan’s world is shattered when he finds a man in his kitchen one morning. The guy made coffee, which would typically win Rowan over, but the reason the guy is there, preparing coffee in Rowan’s coffee pot, makes him hate this new stranger. A lot.

“I’m Chaol,” the man introduces himself with a proud smile. Rowan wants to punch him in the face. “You must be Rowan. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Rowan can’t help but think that he’s heard nothing about this guy. The man’s face falls, and Rowan realizes he’s said the words aloud. Shit. Aelin’s going to be pissed. Yet, she should know better to spring something like this on Rowan first thing in the morning; she knows how bad Rowan is at basic human interaction.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” Chaol jokes, and Rowan grunts. “It’s a new thing, Aelin and I.”

 _Aelin and I._ Rowan wonders if he can get away with strangling this guy. Maybe he can just kick him out and tell Aelin he took off without saying goodbye.

“Good morning!” Aelin calls into the kitchen. She enters in a silky robe, which tells Rowan his best friend is trying to hide the fact that she struts around in her negligees in front of her male roommate. It only bothers him a lot. The thought that another man might be pissed off at the idea of how much Rowan's seen of Aelin, but it bothers Rowan more that Chaol has probably (definitely) seen her naked.

“If it isn’t my two favorite men!” The blonde cheers, leaning onto her toes to peck a kiss onto Chaol’s cheek. Rowan’s coffee turns to ash in his stomach.

He can’t look at Aelin all of a sudden, and his heart is pounding in his ears. So, Rowan abandons his coffee on the counter and retreats back into his room. The new guy stays all day, and Rowan keeps his required interactions to a minimum, declines the invitation to join them for dinner. The idea of watching Aelin flirt with whoever the fuck that guy is makes his stomach leaden and his chest ache.

There’s no way Rowan would make it through a whole dinner with them. Not without making an ass of himself in an effort to protect his feelings. Aelin looks irritated by his behavior, but Rowan just grunts and buries his nose in his computer. He has to avoid making eye contact with her; Aelin can see right through his shit, through his efforts to pretend nothing is wrong.

*

Aelin storms into the apartment alone later that night. Rowan’s caught in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich and blowing his “I’m not feeling well” excuse to hell. Those sparkling turquoise eyes warn him of the trouble that’s to come.

“Feeling better, huh?” She hisses at him, arms crossed and glowering.

“Yep,” Rowan takes a bite of his food for emphasis, but he chokes on it when Aelin socks him in the arm. Fuck, he hates when she does that.

“Good.” Aelin hits him again, and this time he swears out loud.

“What was that for?” Rowan growls at her, pissed off. He was already irritable from finding out Aelin was seeing someone by finding them in their kitchen; Rowan is supposed to be her best friend. She’s supposed to tell him these things before they use his coffee pot.

“Oh, you know exactly what that was for!” Aelin shouts at him. She reaches to punch him again, but Rowan catches her by her wrists, green eyes flaring with anger. Aelin grits her teeth, but Rowan refuses to break the stare down. Their mutual stubbornness is a problem when they fight.

“You were a total ass today,” Aelin tells Rowan. “Chaol was trying so hard to get to know you, but you just blew him off.”

“He’ll get over it,” Rowan growls, still holding her wrists.

Aelin yanks her limbs free. “Rowan, what the hell? You’re acting so awful! What’re you, like, jealous or something?”

The rude words Rowan held on the tip of his tongue evaporate at the accusation. Because Aelin isn’t wrong. It’s precisely what he is. Rowan is hurt. Rowan is _jealous_. He turns away from her and faces the wall. Anything to avoid her gaze when Aelin figures it out.

“You didn't have to be such a—” Aelin voice cuts off, likely looking incredulous. He can imagine the shock on her face, the way it drains all the blood from her skin. “You’re jealous?”

Rowan braces himself against the cabinet, head hung low, and breathing deeply. He’s so fucked.

“But you—but you can’t be jealous,” Aelin wonders out loud. “You’ve got the hots for that work chick. The one that’s got you all worked up in your sleep...”

Rowan knocks his head against the upper cabinetry, wishing once again for a swift death. Aelin’s only lived here for a few months now, and Rowan’s already gone and ruined it. He jumps when her small hands grab his waist, turning him around to face her.

“Are you...” Aelin trails off, and Rowan imagined the look on her face just right. Aelin eyes him curiously, bites her lip before saying the words. “Ro, are you jealous? That I brought home Chaol?”

Rowan looks away from her, swallowing back the emotions. His eyes train over Aelin’s shoulder, avoiding her gaze, but they lock onto a picture on their fridge that Aelin hung there. It’s of the two of them; they’re out at a bar, and Aelin’s curled into his lap. Rowan’s looking at her in feigned annoyance, but he can remember very clearly now the way his heart leaped at the contact.

He’d loved her even then. He just didn’t see it. Realize it.

Aelin takes in an unsteady breath; it brings his attention back to her. His best friend looks like how he felt this morning: like her world’s been shattered.

Yet, Aelin doesn’t look mad or hurt. She looks confused. Surprised. But not hurt. Those brilliant eyes of her search his face; Rowan knows she can see the answer without him having to voice it. He bites his lip to tame the emotions that threaten him, and Rowan is surprised when Aelin tracks the motions, licks her own lips in response.

Fuck it, Rowan thinks. If this is his one chance, Rowan will take it. So, he does something potentially very, very stupid, and Rowan kisses Aelin. His best friend. The woman he’s in love with. The love of his life, if his instincts are correct.

He cups her face in his hands and presses his lips to hers. A crazy shot in the dark. There’s no way Aelin feels the same; she’s never given him any sort of clue. It’s quick, brief, and when Aelin doesn’t respond, Rowan pulls away, crushed.

Aelin catches him by the waist again before he can run away. Rowan observes her face, but she learned her poker face from him. He's got nothing.

Then he sees it. Aelin looks into his eyes, brow furrowed with determination. They say it all: _I wasn’t ready. Kiss me again._

Rowan leans in, and this time, Aelin meets him halfway. She kisses him exactly how he imagined it, hot and demanding; she buries her fingers into his hair and nips at his lips in a way that makes him groan.

Rowan takes her by the hips and lifts her onto the counter. They laugh when the back of her head smacks the cabinet, and Rowan is quick to take away the pain with a kiss to her nose. Before he knows it, Aelin is wrapping her legs around him, using her feet to pull him closer to her.

The feeling of their bodies pressed so close together has Rowan groaning, breaking their kiss, but Aelin whimpers impatiently, tugs his mouth back to hers right away, eager for more. She cups the back of his neck to keep him there. Close. It makes Rowan smirk, but then Aelin tilts his head just right, so she can swipe her tongue along the roof of his mouth. The noise he makes is desperate for more.

Rowan is ruined with this kiss. He runs his hands down her thighs, grips her hips with his hands and pulls her flush against him. The sound Aelin makes in the back of her throat is better than anything his dreams could have conjured. Her taste, too. There’s no going back now. Rowan wouldn't want to.

At long last, they break for air. Rowan runs his mouth along her neck, laughs when Aelin tugs his face back to her, but the laughter dies when he sees her expression.

“I have to go,” is what she tells him. Aelin pushes him back, unwrapping her legs from his waist, and hopping off of the country.

“Aelin?” Rowan calls after her. His voice is shaky. Aelin won't meet his eye.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll be back later,” she tells him, rushing from the apartment and closing the door quickly behind her. “Don’t wait up.”

Rowan does anyway. But Aelin doesn’t come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only a little sorry!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I never stopped loving you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, this one took some figuring out. Also, I planned to make this the last chapter, and then the last chapter was as long as the rest of the fic! So, now there’s going to be a Part 5. I’ll post it in a few days!

Rowan is in a terrible mood when he wakes up.

The man barely slept, waiting up for Aelin, hoping she'd return to him before the night was over. At some point, Rowan dozed off, but he kept jolting awake at the tiniest of sounds, expecting Aelin to burst into his bedroom in all her fiery rage, yelling at him for ruining things.

He'd take her rage over her absence, the silence, any day.

It's Monday, and so, Rowan has to get up and get ready for work without seeing Aelin. That isn't too out of the ordinary; he and Aelin work different schedules. Yet, the knowledge that she isn't even there, sleeping away her mornings like she so often does, weighs on his shoulders.

He's ruined everything.

Rowan picks up his phone several times. Each time he gets a little further toward texting Aelin. Yet, when he finally gets to their thread of text messages, Rowan doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to fix what's happened. Part of him wants to apologize, but, well, _Aelin kissed him too._

He's in his bedroom when the front door opens and closes, but Aelin flies through the house like a banshee, stomping down the hallway and disappearing behind her bedroom door with a slam. That's a dismissal if there ever was one; Rowan heads off to work with his head hung low.

◍

Aelin is gone by the time he returns for work; Rowan's heart sinks in his chest. When his best friend first moved in, the man's world felt turned upside down by the change. Suddenly someone was always in his private spaces—even Aelin, who'd practically lived there before. His roommate was loud and invasive and drove Rowan crazy.

Now it has been a little less than 24 hours since they last spoke, and Rowan thinks he's going to go mad with the waiting.

At long last, he gathers the courage to reach out to her. Rowan figures that Aelin's probably snuck off to Lyssandra and Aedion's apartment. He refuses to acknowledge the possibility that she might have gone to Chaol's, that she might be with him now.

 **When are you coming home?** Rowan texts feeling a little silly. They've never had a problem checking in with each other before; now, Rowan feels like he's mothering her. **Can we talk? In person?**

 **Can't,** is the response he receives almost immediately. There's no further explanation, no hint of when Aelin would be back or if she was even planning to return home tonight.

Panic seizes him, and Rowan has to go down the hallway to his former guest bedroom to take a look. He knows better than anyone how inclined Aelin is of running away from a problem. She did it after her parents died, and she'd run after she lost Sam, too.

It's arrogant of him to equate the deaths of people Aelin loves to his feelings for her, but the idea is just the same. He certainly thinks he's about to lose her. The door breaks loudly as it swings open. He'll need to fix that.

Everything looks to be in place, Rowan thinks. The room looks like a tornado hit it, which is a pretty accurate description for Aelin. She's done a pretty good job of quarantining her mess to her bedroom since moving in, if only because she knows how it bothers him.

His phone buzzes again, and Rowan rushes for it like a desperate fool. He supposes that's precisely what he is.

 **Dude, what the fuck happened?** Aedion texts him. **Why is Aelin freaking out and kicking me out of my bed?**

Rowan's thumbs hover over the keyboard, debating whether or not to respond. Based on the wording, it looks like Aedion doesn't know what's happened, and there's obviously a reason for that.

 **Did that fucker she was dating do something?** Aedion says when Rowan doesn't respond. **Want to go kick his ass with me?**

Rowan's inclined to say yes, but for all the wrong reasons.

◍

By the time morning comes around again, Rowan's self-loathing and pity gives way to anger. He's pissed. At himself, at Aelin, at the world. He swears at his phone when the alarm sounds off, telling him it's time to get up and go to work. Again. He breaks a coffee mug and swears another string of oaths, and when Rowan stubs his toe on the dining room table, he considers calling out of work and climbing back into bed.

The door opens softly, hesitant. Rowan's heart lodges itself in his throat when Aelin enters the apartment, looking like a stranger. Her turquoise eyes scan the living area, landing on where he's sat in an armchair to tug on his shoes. They stare at each other for a long, long time in silence.

"Rowan," his best friend starts, and he remembers that he's pissed.

"I have to go," Rowan tells her, standing up and shouldering his bag.

"Wait," Aelin pleads, sounding small. Even in his anger, his heart twists at the sound of her pain.

"I'm going to be late," he tells her, though, feeling stubborn. Rowan watches the floor as he marches towards the front door, passing her carefully, mindful of touching her by accident. He can't bear to look at her as he passes.

◍

**Rowan, please.**

**I'm sorry I took off.**

**I panicked.**

**I'll be here when you want to talk.**

**Are we okay?**

**You're my best friend. Always.**

**You'll be home soon, right?**

**Rowan, why aren't you answering?**

**Don't be an asshole.**

**Where are you?**

**I'm not going anywhere until we talk.**

**I'm waiting. As long as it takes.**

◍

Aelin is waiting for him in the living room when Rowan returns. He purposefully stayed out later than intended, agreed to go have a drink with Lorcan and listen to him bitch and moan about his new job. It took a real effort to ignore his phone, to not check the texts that came in throughout the day, increasing in frequency as it got closer to his usual time to get home.

"Hey," Aelin says tentatively when he walks in the door.

Rowan takes in the living room. She's moved a chair front and center of the apartment entrance, blocking the most straightforward path of escape. Rowan considers just turning around and leaving. Lorcan will let him sleep on his couch.

"Don't you dare," Aelin hisses, likely sensing his train of thought. "If you think I won't chase you down and make a scene in the parking lot, you're mistaken."

Rowan glares at her. Who is she to be so demanding? Now?

"A," he says low. Rowan moves to step around the chair and Aelin, but the woman stands up and side steps, blocking his path. He sighs. "I'm too tired to do this right now, and maybe a little drunk. Just let me go to bed."

Aelin remains in the way, but Rowan refuses to look at her. Her eyes burn the skin on his face as he waits her out; Rowan can't look at her, doesn't want to see the pity in her eyes. So, he's surprised when she growls and steps out of the way, allowing him to pass.

"I broke up with Chaol," Aelin calls after him as Rowan makes his way down the hall. The words stop him in his tracks, and he glances over his shoulder to meet Aelin's burning gaze at last. She hasn't moved from her spot by the door, and her hands are clenched into shaking fists as she watches him, eyes guarded, prepared for the worst.

"It's why I left so… suddenly the other night," Aeliin continues when Rowan lingers but doesn't interrupt her. Hope flares in his chest, a horrible, cruel thing that he stomps out immediately. Rowan can't take the heartbreak; he doesn't want this to be any worse than it has to be.

"Why'd you do that?" Rowan's tone is gruff, and Aelin laughs incredulously. It's a bitter sound. She crosses her arms; Rowan knows the gesture well from all of the years he's known her. Aelin is nervous, scared. "I thought you liked him."

"I did—I do," Aelin agrees, but she watches the floor as she talks. Rowan doesn't like that now she can't meet his eye. "But…"

Rowan waits. He doesn't know what's coming, but he can sense that whatever Aelin is about to say is important, that these next words will be a turning point in their friendship. This is when one of two things happen: either Aelin breaks his heart into a million pieces and he loses his best friend, or—

No, Rowan's not going to get ahead of himself.

"It didn't feel right," she tells him, "staying with Chaol after what happened. With you. And me. It'd always feel like I was… keeping something from him."

So, that's the verdict then, Rowan realizes. Aelin was just coming clean with her boyfriend; it didn't mean anything for her.

"Fuck," Aelin swears, running her hands through her hair. Another frustrated gesture. "I'm so bad at this."

"It's okay, A," he says, having to clear his throat to get the words out, and even then, they shake a little. "I don't hold it against you. I'll pretend it never happened."

Rowan heads back to his room. He needs some time alone to figure out what he's going to do next. Despite his promises, he doesn't know if he can pretend if his heart will let him do so.

"I never stopped loving you," Aelin calls after him, stopping him in his tracks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a liar, and there will be one more chapter. :)

“I never stopped loving you.”

Rowan freezes. There’s no way he heard Aelin correctly. He’s definitely lost his mind. That one drink was much stronger than he thought.

“That’s right,” Aelin’s laugh is a little manic. Sure enough, when Rowan looks at her, Aelin seems crazed. “You heard me.”

Rowan feels the blood rush from his face. He doesn’t know how to react. Never stopped? As in she used to? As in she _does_?

“Do you remember a few years ago,” Aelin continues, beginning to pace their living space, not waiting for an answer, “right before Dorian and I split up? We all got it in our heads that it would be loads of fun to go to some shitty house party downtown?”

“Dorian broke up with you just before it,” Rowan recalls. He’d been livid, and Aelin practically begged Rowan not to go kick the kid’s ass. He frowns, trying to puzzle out the logic of sharing that story with him now; Rowan isn’t sure how it relates.

“Gee, thanks for the reminder,” Aelin’s smile is sardonic. “But, uh, I actually broke up with Dorian before the party.” She flashes Rowan a guilty look. “I just went over to his place without warning and told him we should call it quits. That I was over it.”

Rowan raises a brow. That’s pretty cutthroat even for Aelin. “Then why’d you lie about it? To me?”

“Because…” Aelin ducks her head to avoid meeting Rowan’s eye. He’s totally lost any intention of leaving the conversation now, but he’d really like to get back to that first thing she told him. The loving thing.

“Shit, this is so messed up.” An uncomfortable laugh. “Uh, I dumped my boyfriend because I realized I totally had the hots for my best friend. My guy best friend. That’s you, just to be clear.”

“What?” That was years ago, but she’d never said anything.

Aelin grimaces, “I realized I was in love with you, and I finally got the courage to do something about it, to make a move and tell you how I felt—I was going to do something really obvious, like make out with you at the party or something,” Aelin laughs. “But breaking up with my boyfriend took too long because, and by the time I got there, you’d found Remelle.”

He remembers now. The party. Remelle sought out Rowan, and she’d caught his eye. On a superficial level anyway. They hooked up, during which Aelin walked in on them in a bedroom in the back. Yet afterward, Rowan found Aelin wasted and partying it up with strangers.

She’d told him Dorian dumped her. Aelin _lied_.

“Aelin,” Rowan starts, but she cuts him off. His best friend’s cheeks are red, and she’s babbling, the words blurring together. It’s only years of friendship that enables him to decode it.

“It’s fine! It was years ago, and by the time I sobered up, I convinced myself it was for the best,” she shrugs. “You’d never given me any hint that you’d return my feelings anyway, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you didn’t think of me like that. I became afraid that if I did say something, it’d ruin us.”

“Aelin,” he chokes on her name. Because even if Rowan didn’t think of her in such a way at the time, he’s pretty sure he would’ve figured it out when Aelin made her move.

Aelin takes a step towards him, but she pauses. She’s worried. “So, I got over it. Or I thought I did until you fucking jumped me in the kitchen the other night. I—Chaol didn’t deserve it for me to cheat on him, and that’s what I would have done if I’d stayed. So, I left, and I broke up with him. He accused you of turning me against him. So, that relationship was doomed anyway.”

This time her smile reaches her eyes. Rowan and Aelin have found in their years of friendship that if one’s significant other had problems with the other, things never worked out. They would always pick each other first. Even over relationships.

Fuck, Rowan’s been so stupid. _Five years._

“He’s a dick,” Rowan tells her, and Aelin’s laugh is happy at last.

“Yeah, good call,” she tells him with a watery smile. He smiles, drinking her in as he walks back to her, holding her gaze.

"Why'd you hide out at Aedion's?" He asks because he needs to know. Aelin avoided him before she came back. That hurt.

Her expression is annoyed; Aelin's cousin was going to get an earful for ratting her out later. "I freaked out, Ro. You know I'm afraid of getting what I want."

Rowan laughs because he's never head a more accurate statement. Then he turns serious. “Go back to the beginning,” he tells her, and Aelin frowns. He explains, “to the first thing you said.”

“The first thing I said— _oh_ ,” Aelin’s eyes turn wide. She watches him, speechless for a long while, but Rowan is patient, waiting for her to gather her courage. “I never stopped. I never stopped loving—”

Rowan kisses her before Aelin can finish her sentence; he’s waited long enough, he thinks, to hold her face in his hands and feel her lips against his. There’s the briefest moment’s hesitation from Aelin, and then she sighs in his kiss, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her.

“I love you,” Aelin tells him when they break for air. Rowan’s smile takes up his whole face.

“I love you, too,” he tells her.

And then they’re kissing again, mouths and hands needy. Aelin can’t stop smiling, and Rowan breaks the kiss to look at her, walking her gently towards the couch.

Aelin’s smile is soft. “Yeah?”

Rowan presses another long kiss to her lips, “Yes.”

“Fuck, we have the worst timing,” Aelin says, laughing when the backs of her knees hit the couch, and she stumbles. Rowan catches her by the waist, chuckling, and lowers her to the sofa.

“I think we figured it out,” Rowan tells her, hovering over her. He presses another kiss to her mouth and then one to her neck; Rowan has a lot of exploring to do. He smiles when Aelin moves her head to the side, encouraging him to keep kissing her neck.

“Does that mean you’re finally going to fuck me?” Aelin asks in that troublesome way of hers. Rowan groans into her skin, both very turned on and exasperated by her. “Cause I’d really like for you to fuck me.”

“Gods,” Rowan nips at her jaw and Aelin squeals in delight. “I hate you so much.”

“Liar,” she says, but the words come out soft and vulnerable. She leans in to kiss him, and Rowan returns it.

He laughs when Aelin nips at his lips for more. Impatient and demanding, Aelin turns what was a sweet moment into something hotter, needier. Rowan groans at the sensation of Aelin’s tongue in his mouth, and his brain goes back to the last time he kissed her. How good it felt to have her body pressed into his. He moves to cover her body more fully with his own, but Aelin has other plans.

“Sit back,” Aelin demands, pushing him back away from her when Rowan resists. They scramble on the couch, giggling when they bump heads trying to reposition. Rowan sits upright on the sofa, and Aelin slides onto his lap, yanking her shirt off and setting to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“Shit,” Rowan groans at the sight of her, running his hands up her sides to tease at the black lace she’s wearing. Fuck, she looks good in his lap like this, flushed and determined. When his fingers skate over the tops of her breasts, Aelin whimpers and arches into his touch, wanting more. Rowan leans in, sucking on a nipple through the thin fabric of Aelin’s bra; she keens, hands shooting to his head to hold him in place.

Rowan will never have a problem with getting Aelin to tell him what she wants. She’ll just take it, but he doesn’t mind. Not at all.

They switch gears, and Rowan’s eyes fall shut when Aelin starts kissing along his collarbone, then down the expanse of skin, she’s revealing button by button. When she tries to slide off his lap to the floor, Rowan stops her, taking her by the hips to pull her in for another kiss.

“Later,” he growls, and Aelin hums, already reaching behind herself to undo her bra. Rowan shrugs off his shirt. They get distracted kissing, but when Aelin starts to grind her hips against the bulge in his pants, they refocus.

Rowan stands up, taking Aelin with him. She’s quick to wrap her legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss, Rowan walks her towards the bedrooms. He’s very thankful that his bedroom is first, closest; otherwise, he’d probably trip on something on Aelin’s floor, and they’d both fall. Aelin whimpers when he pulls away from her, setting her on the edge of the bed. He starts to undo his pants, and Aelin’s eyes go impossibly darker, licking her lips and watching him work.

“Rowan,” Aelin sighs, spreading her legs to make room for him between her knees. He makes himself at home there, sucking little marks into the skin of her inner thighs and running his hands down them. “Rowan, stop teasing, you bastard.”

Rowan sinks his teeth deep into her thigh in response; Aelin’s back arches off the bed as she cries out. The noise is pleased and frustrated all at the same time.

“Oh, _yes,”_ she hisses as he sinks his fingers inside of her, mouth working on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Aelin’s hands are in his hair, pulling much too hard, but Rowan likes it. It urges him on. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“Oh! Fuck!” Aelin rocks her hips against his mouth, clawing at him. She props herself up on her elbows to watch him work, and when Rowan’s green eyes meet hers, Aelin loses it. She breaks suddenly, and Aelin screams out his name, collapsing back onto the bed.

Rowan keeps up his efforts until Aelin starts to pull him away. They kiss messily, Aelin groaning into his mouth as she tastes herself on his lips. This time, Rowan doesn’t fight her when Aelin reaches for him, tugging him free of the last item of his clothes.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” Aelin asks, running her fingers over him. It takes Rowan a second to form the words, but he still has enough mindset to glare at the smirk on her lips. His arrogant Aelin.

“Nightstand.”

Aelin releases him, sliding up the bed and yanking the drawer open to locate one. Rowan grunts at the lack of contact, but Aelin returns to him quickly, eagerly unwrapping the condom and rolling it onto him in one practiced motion. He tries not to think about where she got those skills.

When Aelin bites her lip in what looks like embarrassment, Rowan brushes a knuckle across her face to soothe her; he’d be disappointed if she decided she wanted to stop, but it was up to her. He tells her as much.

Aelin looks shocked. “If you stop now, Rowan Whitethorn, I’ll kill you.”

A bark of laughter escapes him, Rowan grins. “So, what is it, Fireheart?”

Aelin’s eyes go soft. “I’m very happy.”

“Me, too,” Rowan tells her, leaning forward to kiss her. “But I’d also really, really like to feel you now.”

“Shit,” Aelin swears. “Yeah, let’s do that. That sounds good.”

Rowan leans forward, kissing her and pressing her back down onto the mattress. She hums happily, dragging her nails lightly across the skin of his back to grab his ass. Rowan lines himself up with her entrance and waits for her cue.

They both gasp when Rowan finally slides inside of her. Aelin feels even better than he could ever have imagined, and Rowan struggles not to get lost in her too quickly. Aelin urges him along with her words, locking him inside of her with her legs.

“I love you, Rowan,” she tells him when they’re both shaking and on the edge. Rowan’s heart is pounding in his ears as he kisses her in response, not capable of forming the words at the moment. Aelin clutches at his shoulders, and his hips start to stutter. She falls over the edge with him, chanting his name.

“Aelin,” Rowan gasps, presses his face into her skin as he comes. “Oh, fuck. Aelin. _Aelin.”_

◍

“So,” Aelin begins later as she plays with his hair. Rowan huffs in answer, his breath tickling the skin of her stomach; she breaks into a lighthearted giggle. “When did you know?”

Rowan cracks open one eye to look at her. Aelin smiles down at him, the morning sun makes her hair glow, like a golden crown. “Know what?”

Aelin gives him a look that tells him how unimpressed she is with his playing dumb. “When did you know…” Aelin trails off her voice turning soft. “When did you know that you loved me?”

Rowan’s heartbeat speeds up in his chest. Aelin stares at the pillow she’s propped herself up on to avoid his eye. Even now, even after their confession, she’s uncertain, shy.

Rowan moves so that he can take her chin in his hands. He waits for those gold and blue eyes to look at him before he speaks, “It wasn’t too long after you moved in,” he admits, swallowing to push the emotions aside. “You washed your sheets one night and were too lazy to make your own damn bed, so you came in here and slept in mine.”

Aelin is watching him closely, memorizing every word.

“I woke up that morning, and you were still snoring—“

“—I don’t snore!”

Rowan gives her a look. “You sound like a chainsaw, A. Ow! Will you stop hitting me?”

“Stop spreading lies!” Aelin cries and Rowan wants to feel more annoyed, but he just loves the shit out of her. “Why are you such a liar? Making up stories to—”

“Fireheart, I love you very much,” Rowan says sternly. The woman in his bed continues her raving, complaining. “But I’m trying—Will you just let me—Can I _finish_?”

Aelin collects herself, nodding for him to continue. Rowan has to glare at her just a little longer; only they would start bickering in the middle of a very sweet, intimate moment. “I just knew. Laying there with you and watching you sleep, I just knew. I wanted this,” he squeezes his arms wrapped around her body. “I wanted to be with you. I loved you. I always have; I was just too blind to see it.”

Aelin looks inclined to burst into tears. “We wasted so much time.”

“No, Aelin,” Rowan tells her, leaning forward to catch her lips with his. “We took exactly as much time as we needed, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, lovelies, it's time! We've reached the end of this little fic. Thank you all for reading it! <3  
> Also, in keeping with this particular fic, the beginning is a little naughty, lmao.   
> If you're not into that, skip to the first break. *shrugs*

“Rowan,” Aelin gasps softly.

“Aelin,” he returns. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

She moans softly, rocking her hips back and forth as she rides him. Rowan holds one of her hands where it presses against his chest, and he runs the other up her body, through the valley of her breasts to cup her face.

Aelin is quick to nip at his fingers, and he grunts softly, hips thrusting gently upward in reaction. Rowan makes Aelin gasp with the motion, and she swears, “Oh, shit. Rowan, I’m gonna—“

Rowan groans deeply as the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Their movements are so slow, tortuous, but Rowan is living for it, desperate for the feeling of Aelin coming around his cock. It’s a feeling he’s never going to stop craving.

“It’s okay, baby,” he tells her softly. “I’m right there with you.”

“Ah, ah,” Aelin continues to grind against him. Rowan’s hands travel her body, teasing and exploring. He lets her take the lead, though; she’s found a spot she likes, one that has Aelin trembling with every move. It’s a lot to not come inside her, just watching her on top of him.

“Oh,” Aelin gasps. “Fuck. I love you so much.”

Rowan’s heart leaps at the words. This is something his dreams were never going to come up with. Something he’d never been able to imagine the feeling of. Rowan was too afraid that he’d never have her to allow himself to dream of Aelin loving him back. To have this connection with her, on both a physical and emotional level, Rowan never saw that coming.

Making love. That’s what they were doing.

His groan is longer this time. Rowan’s close, too, and each rock of her hips brings them both closer to the end. Her fingers brush his face, and this time Rowan nips at her fingers instead. Aelin's laugh is breathless, strangled by another moan.

“I love you, too,” Rowan says.

“Ah, ah,” Aelin’s head drops back. Rowan drinks in the sight of her like that, arched atop him and right at the edge. “Rowan. _Oh_ , Rowan.”

He takes her hips in his hands as Aelin starts to move a little more desperately than before. Rowan thrusts into her deeply. Once, twice, and on the third time, Aelin gasps his name, digging her nails into his chest and jerking her hips.

“Good girl,” Rowan tells her as he works her through it. “Fuck. You look so good, baby. So fucking good.”

Before Aelin can come down from her high, Rowan flips them over. Aelin is pliant in his hands, and Rowan starts to thrust more quickly. He’s not able to reach as deep inside her like this, with her legs wrapped around his backside; Rowan’s not going to last much longer anyway, but Aelin seems to enjoy it just as much as he does.

“Rowan,” Aelin gasps. “Rowan, come for me.”

He groans, thrusting. His motions are already becoming jerky, but Aelin starts to swear again. He wonders at the odds of getting her to climax one more time with him.

“Fuck, Aelin,” Rowan growls into her skin, going a little crazy for his own release. “You feel so fucking good. How do you feel this good?”

Aelin just moans, fingers scraping at the skin of his back for purchase.

“Oh, shit,” Rowan gasps. “Baby, I’m going to come. Fuck, I’m—“

“Just kiss me,” she says, voice husky and hands already reaching for his face.

Rowan’s mouth drops to hers, and Aelin kisses him desperately, hands in his hair and hips moving to meet his. Rowan gasps into her mouth as his orgasm claims him, and he has to break apart from her. His teeth dig into her shoulder, and he buries himself as deeply as he can inside of her.

Aelin cries out, and her walls start to flutter around him again. Softer than before, but it still has her humming his name.

*

When Rowan comes down a few moments later, his face is pressed into her shoulder, and Aelin is playing with his hair. She smiles down at him with amusement.

“I thought you passed out on me, Buzzard,” Aelin’s eyes are full of trouble. Rowan scrapes his teeth against her skin in response and smirks when her walls clench around him. It reminds him to pull out, to take care of the condom, and he grins a little when Aelin whimpers at the loss of contact. Rowan loves that Aelin can't seem to get enough of him; he feels much the same.

He returns to her in an instant, settling between her legs to kiss her lazily. Aelin’s fingers return to his hair, and they stay that way for a while. Nothing more than a tangle of limbs.

Then Aelin’s kisses grow a little more purposeful, and Rowan manages to groan in defeat and laugh at the same time. She reaches for him.

“Fireheart,” he pleads. His head drops to her shoulder when Aelin begins to stroke him. “I need a break, baby.”

“It’s okay,” she tells him, grinning like a devil. “I’ll do all the work.”

His laugh is hopeless and amused. Then his stomach growls, loud and impetuous, and Aelin breaks into hysterical giggles. Rowan flushes, heat spreading up the back of his neck and reaching his ears. His stomach gurgles a second time, and he says, “And maybe some food.”

Aelin smiles softly, releasing him. Rowan feels a rush of disappointment despite his protests. The kiss she presses to his lips is a consolation prize.

“Alrighty, you nap,” she kisses him again. “I’m going to make us pancakes!”

She sounds so excited that he can’t bring himself to protest as Aelin slides out from under him and leaves the bedroom. Rowan doesn’t mean to, but he dozes off when he shuts his eyes _just for a minute._

_*_

Aelin wakes him up by running her fingers through his hair. The smell of food has Rowan perking up immediately; he's starving. Aelin offers him a plate of food, and Rowan accepts it greedily. He eats right there, naked in bed, and Aelin watches him with interest, smiling.

The moment is domestic and sweet, but Aelin's pancakes are terrible. Rowan doesn't want to tell her that, though, doesn't want to disappoint her. So, he suffers in silence, smile plastered on his face. He's hungry enough that Rowan barely tastes it anyway. Pleased, Aelin starts on her own serving, clearly satisfied with his reaction.

“What the fuck!?” She gags on the food and looks at him in horror.

Rowan gives her a smile. “I think you mixed up the salt and the sugar,” he tells her. He’s not sure how because they use prepackaged dry ingredients.

“Fuck,” Aelin swears loudly, setting her plate to the side with a frown. “I hope you’re okay with being the cook in this relationship. I suck at it.”

Her words stop him. She says it so casually like it’s no big deal, but to Rowan, it means everything. He knows his smile is silly, but he can’t help himself. “I think I always have been.”

She leans forward to kiss him sweetly and pulls out her phone. Likely to order something edible for them. Aelin is the Queen of Takeout.

“Besides,” he grins suggestively. “You’re good at other things. It makes up for it.”

Aelin smacks him lightning fast. The pain shooting up his arm is worth it; Rowan likes to see Aelin all worked up and angry. It’s a good look on her.

“Oh, fuck you!”

“I think you already did that,” Rowan smirks, the smile spreading into a full grin. She hits him again. This time the strike is hard enough to make him hiss.

“I’m going to eat my breakfast without you, Buzzard,” she tells him flatly, pressing send on the order and ignoring him.

“Guess I’ll have to find something else for breakfast then,” Rowan purrs. The tone of his voice makes her shiver with anticipation. He leans forward and kisses her once on the neck; Aelin melts into his arms right away.

*

 _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._ The delivery guy glances at his phone and verifies the address. He’s got the right place. He's going to be pissed if someone’s stood him up again. This keeps happening.

“Shit! Shit!” There’s a crash, and that same female voice yells, “Fucking hell, I need to pick up after myself.”

Another voice laughs, distinctly male.

_Buzz._

“I’m almost there! Give a girl a break; I’m incapacitated!”

The delivery guy huffs. He’s going to be late to his next order, and that affects his tips. He reaches for the buzzer again.

He’s surprised when an obviously naked woman answers the door. She’s beautiful, if one is into that kind of thing, and dressed in nothing more than a bedsheet. She flashes him a breathless but pleased smile and hands the man a wad of crumpled cash.

“Sorry, we were—Well, I was—“ The woman blushes. “Fuck, you know what we’re doing. You’re not stupid.”

“Fireheart!”

“That’s my best friend,” the woman explains with a silly smile. “He loves me too.”

“Word. Is the sex good?” The man asks with a raised brow, handing over the food. The conversations he has as a delivery driver would amaze people.

“So fucking good,” she breathes, attempting to sign the slip and keep her sheet up at the same time.

“Hot?” The delivery man asks, curious.

“Aelin!” The man in the apartment barks before she can answer. When the delivery guy looks up, he catches a flash of brown skin and silver hair as the woman’s _best friend_ realizes she isn’t alone.

“Fuck, that’s not fair,” the courier breathes. _Aelin_ laughs loudly and hands him the slip back with a scandalous grin. “Your babies won the genetic lottery.”

“Babies,” Aelin says like she hadn’t thought about it yet. The woman smiles softly.

 _“Lots_ of babies." She seems to realize herself, spilling her guts to a stranger. "Uh, well, thanks for the food. Gotta, go!”

When the door closes, a delighted squeal of laughter breaks out within the apartment, and a deep rumble of laughter follows. They're happy this couple. Good for them.

_The End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to all of you lovely readers! Originally, I wrote the intro of this story as a one-shot, but here we are six chapters later! Our best friends/roommates are happy and in love! Thank you for all of your comments (and kudos)! They're a joy to read! :)


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